


Trapped in Darkness

by LibraryMage



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Torture, violence only really gets kinda graphic in chapter 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-16 23:29:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20611145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibraryMage/pseuds/LibraryMage
Summary: Ezra is captured by the Grand Inquisitor, who is determined to turn him into a tool of the Empire.





	1. Falling from a Great Height

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for the Bad Things Happen Bingo prompt "falling from a great height"

Ezra felt the ground disappear from beneath his foot and quickly shifted position, glancing over his shoulder. He was backed up to the very edge of the chasm, one wrong step away from a steep drop into empty darkness. His breath caught in his throat as he looked up to see the Inquisitor advancing on him, both his and Kanan’s lightsabers in his hands.

“The darkness is too strong for you, orphan,” the Inquisitor said with a smug, satisfied grin, like he knew something Ezra didn’t. “It is swallowing you up, even now.”

“No,” Ezra growled.

“Your master will die,” the Inquisitor said, continuing as if Ezra hadn’t spoken at all.

“No!” Ezra said again. He wasn’t going to let this monster hurt Kanan. He wasn’t going to let him hurt _anyone_.

“Your friends will die.” The Inquisitor continued advancing on Ezra, dragging the blade of Kanan’s lightsaber along the ground, sending sparks shooting into the air around him. “And everything you’ve hoped for will be lost. This is the way the story ends.”

“No!” Ezra screamed.

Somewhere far below him, he felt something move. Something fierce, something predatory, something that shared his instinct to protect, to drive away the threat in front of him. The creature scaled the rocky walls of the crevasse, following Ezra’s rage like a beacon, compelled to come to his aid. As he felt it climb out behind him, Ezra pointed one shaking hand at the Inquisitor.

_Hurt him destroy him kill him **kill him kill him.**_

“Ezra, no!”

He barely heard Kanan’s voice over the ringing in his ears as the creature leapt past him, charging at the Inquisitor. The Pau’an took a step back, raising his lightsaber, the twin blades spinning in the air beside him. Ezra watched, fighting to stay on his feet as he began shaking, the edges of his vision going dim. He wanted to see this. He wanted to see the Inquisitor torn apart, his bones crushed between the creature’s teeth.

As the Inquisitor slashed at one of the creature’s legs, he turned his head, locking eyes with Ezra. That smile returned to his face for just a moment, making Ezra’s blood run cold.

Ezra barely felt the push through the Force, but weak as he was, it was more than enough to knock him off balance. He lost his footing, stumbling back, crying out as the ground disappeared from beneath him.

“Ez—” Kanan’s voice was cut off by a cry of pain as Ezra plummeted into the darkness.

Ezra reached out blindly, his hand catching on a ledge. He clung to it, his feet kicking wildly at the rock wall beneath it as he hauled himself up. He crawled onto the ledge, panting as he curled up on his side. He hugged his arms around himself. It was so _cold_ down here. He just needed a minute to catch his breath, to regroup. He’d find away out of here. He _would_. He…

His vision was beginning to blur when he heard a rustle of movement above him. A moment later, someone landed beside him, their heavy black boots the only thing in his field of vision.

Ezra blinked slowly, turning his head so he could see his rescuer. His breath caught in his throat when he saw that pale face and that sinister, fanged grin.

“No,” he said, unable to manage more than a whisper.

The Inquisitor reached out a hand and Ezra’s throat tightened. He was dragged up until the Inquisitor’s hand closed around his neck, shoving him back against the rock wall.

“You are coming with me, boy,” the Inquisitor said.

Ezra grabbed the Inquisitor’s hand, weakly clawing at it, trying to pry his fingers away. Spots began dancing across his vision as his eyelids drooped. The Inquisitor simply waited, his bright yellow eyes never leaving Ezra’s face as Ezra grew weaker by the second.

Darkness fell over him as his eyes closed, his hand dropping back to his side.

The last thing he knew was the Inquisitor’s terrifying, sinister laugh.


	2. Grabbed by the Chin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for: restraint; sensory deprivation; referenced death of a parental figure

Ezra had long since stopped trying to use the Force to remove the cuffs around his wrists. Each time he tried, they only grew tighter, and now he was starting to lose the feeling in his fingers.

He sat slumped against the wall, his hands bound behind him and the cuffs attached to the wall by a short chain to prevent him from going anywhere. The lights in the cell had been turned off when he was locked in here hours ago, and he couldn’t see a thing. All he could do was wait, his heart hammering as dozens of potential scenarios of what could happen next flitted through his mind, each more terrifying than the last.

When the door finally opened, Ezra ducked his head, squeezing his eyes shut as the lights turned on. Footsteps drew closer, stopping right in front of him. He didn’t need to look up to know that it was the Inquisitor who stood over him.

“Might as well not bother,” Ezra said. “Whatever you want from me, you won't get it.”

The Inquisitor leaned down, one pale hand closing around Ezra’s chin. Ezra tried to pull away, but the Inquisitor only tightened his grip and forced him to look up into those terrifying yellow eyes.

“I will,” the Inquisitor said. “Your master is gone. No one is coming for you.”

“Gone?” Ezra repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“The creature you summoned killed him,” the Inquisitor said, his grip tightening even more, his fingers digging into Ezra’s skin hard enough to draw a soft hiss of pain from him.

“No,” Ezra gasped. He fought to pull out of the Inquisitor’s bruising grip, but the man shoved his head back against the wall behind him, pinning him in place with nowhere to go. “You’re lying!”

The Inquisitor abruptly released him, keeping his eyes on Ezra as he straightened up, his gaze detached but observant, like he was examining a specimen under a microscope. Ezra shrank back against the wall, straining against the cuffs. It couldn’t be true. Kanan couldn’t be dead.

“You embraced the dark side when you controlled that creature,” the Inquisitor said. “And you used it to kill a Jedi.”

A cruel smile spread across his face, his eyes never leaving Ezra, never losing that look, like Ezra was an animal in a lab, being watched and monitored.

“And you said I had nothing to teach you.”

“You don’t!” Ezra snapped.

The Inquisitor’s eyes narrowed and Ezra flinched as he felt just the slightest pressure on his throat, a silent warning. Ezra glared at him as the pressure let up. It was going to take a lot more than that to scare him into submission.

“There is no point in trying to resist,” the Inquisitor said. “You have no one left to teach you, and your crew will never want you back after what you did.”

Ezra clenched his jaw as he looked away, refusing to acknowledge the Inquisitor’s words and trying to ignore the dread in the pit of his stomach at the thought that they might be true. Kanan was a part of their family. If Ezra had killed him – _no, you didn’t, you _didn’t_, it’s not true_ – even by accident, they wouldn’t let him come back.

The Inquisitor smiled again, as if he knew exactly what had just gone through Ezra’s head. As the Inquisitor reached out a hand toward him, Ezra shrank back only to hear a dull _click_ from behind him. The pressure released from around his wrists and Ezra’s face burned as he felt tears stinging at his eyes, brought on by the sheer relief. As he pulled his hands in front of him, his shoulders aching, he saw that his wrists were bruised, small cuts littered across his skin where the edges of the cuffs had dug into him.

As Ezra stared down at his hands, determined to look anywhere but at his captor’s face, he almost didn’t see the Inquisitor moving toward him quickly, a hypospray in his hand. Ezra tried to move out of the way, but he was too slow. The Inquisitor caught his arm and pulled back his sleeve, plunging the needle into his skin.

The moment the Inquisitor released him, Ezra felt something cold spreading throughout his body, smothering every sensation, both mental and physical. He slumped onto the floor, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as the Force itself began to slip away.

“What did you do?” he gasped.

“I made sure you wouldn’t be escaping,” the Inquisitor said. “I think a few days unable to use the Force will give you time to reflect on your situation.”

The Inquisitor turned on his heel and left the cell. As the door closed, the lights shut off once more, plunging Ezra back into complete darkness.


	3. Hand Stomp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for: broken bones

Ezra lay on his side, facing the wall opposite the door to the cell. He kept his eyes shut, his breaths deep and even as he focused on letting his mind empty like Kanan had been trying to teach him. He forced the tense muscles of his shoulders to relax. Whoever came into the cell next had to believe he was really asleep if he was going to get the drop on them.

When the door opened, the footsteps that entered the cell hesitated for a moment. Ezra forced himself not to smile. It was working. As the footsteps drew closer, Ezra steeled himself before rolling over and throwing himself toward the figure who’d entered the cell, slamming his elbow into the back of their knees. As he lunged to his feet, a hand tangled in his hair, wrenching his head back and forcing him to look up at the Inquisitor.

“You almost had me fooled,” the Pau’an said. “But your shields are weak. Your pathetic excuse for a master couldn’t even teach you something that simple.”

Ezra cried out as the Inquisitor threw him back to the floor. There was a flurry of movement and before Ezra realized what was happening, the heel of the Inquisitor’s boot came slamming down onto the back of his right hand.

Ezra screamed as the bones cracked under the Inquisitor’s weight. He tried to pry his hand away, but the Inquisitor only dug his heel further into the already-broken bones.

“S—stop!” Ezra cried, his voice breaking as tears spilled from his eyes.

The Inquisitor increased the pressure once again and Ezra whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut, just waiting for it to be over. After a moment that seemed to stretch out forever, the Inquisitor removed his boot from Ezra’s hand. Ezra backed away, huddling against the wall as he clutched his broken hand to his chest.

“If you try that again, I will do much worse,” the Inquisitor said. “Now, get up.”

Ezra shook his head, shrinking back against the wall. The Inquisitor reached out and grabbed his wrist, just above his broken hand, and pulled him to his feet. He pushed back Ezra’s sleeve, plunging a hypospray into his arm once more.

As the drugs began to take effect, the Inquisitor released him and Ezra fell back to the floor, unable to stay on his feet. He curled in on himself, squeezing his eyes shut as the Inquisitor turned away, leaving him alone in the dark again.


	4. You Can Scream All You Want

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for: restraint; mind rape (that's really all I can think of to call it)

By the time the Inquisitor returned to the cell, the drugs he’d given Ezra had begun to wear off. There was still just enough in his system that he was barely able to struggle as the Inquisitor grabbed him, wrenching his arms behind his back and securing the cuffs around his wrists again. Ezra drew in a sharp gasp of pain as he was thrown back to the floor, his broken hand crushed beneath his back.

“This is your last chance to reconsider, boy,” the Inquisitor said.

“Bite me,” Ezra snapped, glaring up at the man.

The Inquisitor was clearly unimpressed by Ezra’s attempt at defiance.

“You _will_ serve the Empire,” he said. “Whether you do so willingly doesn't matter.”

Ezra said nothing, continuing to glare at the Inquisitor.

“Very well,” the Inquisitor said. “Just remember that this was your choice.”

The Inquisitor reached out a hand toward him and pressure began building in Ezra’s head. The pressure quickly gave way to pain that spread through Ezra’s whole body, concentrating in his head. Claws of ice raked through his mind, tearing into him viciously.

Ezra’s throat was burning. He could barely hear the sound of his own screams over the roaring pain in his head. the Inquisitor’s presence was overwhelming him, flooding his mind, cracks spreading from where his mental claws dug in.

There was a dull _thump_ and Ezra was vaguely aware of his head snapping back against the floor. He could barely see the Inquisitor standing over him through the haze of tears in his eyes, that pale hand reaching toward him an indistinct blur.

“Stop!” he cried, his voice a broken whimper. “Pl—”

His words dissolved into another scream as the Inquisitor pressed deeper into Ezra’s mind.

“You can scream all you want,” the Inquisitor said. “No one who cares will hear you.”

Something snapped in Ezra’s mind, the pain blinding him as he screamed. The Inquisitor pushed harder, those claws of ice reaching deeper. Ezra just kept screaming until his eyes rolled back and everything went dark.


	5. Tears of Fear

Ezra couldn’t move.

He lay curled up on his side in a corner of the cell, staring blankly into the pitch darkness that surrounded him. He was alone now, but the Inquisitor’s presence was still there. It was all he could feel. It surrounded him, trapping him in a void of cold and shadows.

The void pressed in on him, twisting around him as if mocking him with its presence. His chest ached as if the cold was crushing him, holding him in place against the floor.

Tears began to trail down his face, and he made no move to wipe them away.

* * *

When Kanan opened the door, he heard a soft whimper from inside the cell. He stepped through the opening, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

At first glance, the cell looked empty, and then he caught sight of the movement in the corner. Ezra was curled up on his side, quietly sobbing. Kanan quickly rushed to the boy’s side and knelt down next to him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“Ezra,” he said quietly.

Ezra yelped, sitting up abruptly and pulling away from Kanan’s touch. He shrank against the wall, shuddering.

“Ezra, it’s okay,” Kanan said, glancing over his shoulder at the door. They couldn’t afford to wait much longer. They had to get moving soon.

Ezra looked up at him, his eyes widening as tears spilled down his face. Sheer terror poured from his mind, filling the space between them, screaming across their bond.

“N—no,” Ezra said, his voice shaking. “You’re not here. I – I killed y—”

His voice broke off, dissolving into quiet sobs as he pressed his hands over his eyes. Kanan’s stomach churned at the sight of the kid’s right hand. It was bruised and swollen, blood slowly trickling from a cut.

“I’m sorry,” Ezra whispered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I didn’t – I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m sorry, Kanan.”

“It’s okay,” Kanan said, unable to keep the tremor from his own voice as he watched Ezra trembling in the corner, muttering apologies to what he clearly thought was a hallucination. “Everything’s okay. I’m taking you home.”

“Spectre Two,” he said, switching on his commlink. “I found him. Are the cameras still off?”

Rather than Hera’s voice, it was Chopper’s that came through, warbling an affirmative reply.

Kanan carefully gathered Ezra up into his arms, cradling the kid against his chest. He winced, not from the weight, but the lack of it. Even after all these months on the _Ghost_, Ezra felt like almost nothing in his arms.

Shifting Ezra’s weight to make sure his grip on the kid was secure, Kanan crossed the cell, glancing quickly out into the hallway before stepping through the door. As he made his way through the detention block, he looked down at the boy in his arms. Ezra wasn’t fighting him. In fact, the kid was clinging to him like his life depended on it, crying quietly into Kanan’s shirt. He probably thought he was dreaming.

Kanan tightened his grip on Ezra, determined not to let the kid slip away from him again.


	6. Don't You Dare Pity Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for: references to mind control

Ezra’s stomach was growling. Glancing at the chronometer, he guessed that it had been almost sixteen hours since the last time he’d eaten, when Kanan had brought him home and made him choke down a few bites of a ration bar.

Ezra winced as he sat up. He’d gone longer than this without eating before and he’d been fine. He was getting too used to the amount of food he could have on the _Ghost_.

He slid off of his bunk, landing lightly on his feet, and quietly made his way toward the galley. Fortunately, he didn’t run into any other members of the crew. He could still feel them, of course. He could feel _everything_ now, to an extent he never had before. But it was so much worse when they were in close contact.

When he reached the galley, he stopped in his tracks when he saw Kanan in the room. His stomach churned as he saw the man’s shoulders stiffen and sensed his wave of bitter, painful guilt.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, neither of them able to say anything. Ezra was the one who broke off the painful staring contest, walking to the cabinet and retrieving a ration bar as if everything was normal. All the while, Kanan’s words from before echoed in his head. _Violated. Equivalent to assault._

He kept his head down, avoiding Kanan’s gaze, a dull ache spreading through his chest at the memory of Kanan’s hand on his shoulder. Kanan hadn’t left his side as Ahsoka explained what had been done to him.

He grew nauseous just thinking about it. Ahsoka had told him that the Inquisitor had torn away the shields Kanan had taught him to construct, and begun tearing down the unconscious shields he’d been instinctively building his whole life. She’d caught glimpses of the Inquisitor’s plan, like shards of his thoughts that had broken off in Ezra’s mind. He’d planned to forcibly form a bond with Ezra, to control his actions and make him serve the Empire against his will.

Ezra looked down at the ration bar in his hand. Though his stomach still ached with hunger, the thought of eating was overwhelming. It was such a simple task, but now it seemed impossible.

He felt Kanan’s eyes on him, and with the feeling came an explosion inside his head. Kanan quickly tried to shield his own mind, protecting Ezra from his emotions. But it was too late. Ezra had already sensed that sharp, stinging feeling that pierced his head. His stomach churned, the nausea growing worse as he squeezed his eyes shut and hugged his arms around himself. The knowledge that Kanan _pitied_ him was almost worse than the knowledge of what the Inquisitor had done to his mind. In the months he’d been on the crew, he’d worked so hard to prove that he wasn’t just some kid who the others needed to feel sorry for, and all of that had been undone in just a few days.

“Don’t,” he snapped, taking a step back, though Kanan hadn’t made a move toward him.

“Ezra –”

“I said _don’t_,” Ezra said. “I don’t need pity. I don’t _want_ it.”

Kanan sighed and Ezra flinched as he sensed the frustration behind it. It took him a moment to realize that frustration wasn’t directed at him, but at…everything. The whole situation.

“I’m sorry,” Kanan said.

Ezra’s arms tightened around himself as he stared down at the floor, fighting to keep himself from shaking. Kanan had already seen him at his most vulnerable, when Ahsoka had reached into his mind, and when she’d told him what she’d found. He didn’t want Kanan to see him shaking and on the verge of tears now.

“I know you don’t want me saying I’m sorry for what happened,” Kanan said. “But I – I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.”

Ezra quickly clenched his jaw as he felt it beginning to shake. Kanan had been trying to hide it since the moment he’d realized Ezra’s shields had been destroyed, but Ezra could still sense his guilt; constant, unyielding, spiking whenever the man laid eyes on him. It was so powerful that it had taken Ezra hours to realize that it wasn’t just Kanan’s guilt he was feeling, but his own, too.

“I’m sorry I messed up,” he said, still not looking at his master.

“What are you talking about?” Kanan asked.

Ezra’s eyes fluttered closed for a second as he remembered that cold welling up in his chest as he’d stood on the ledge, feeling that creature moving in the chasm below him.

“I used the dark side,” he said, his voice breaking. “And if I hadn’t…if I hadn’t, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Ezra,” Kanan said. Ezra jumped and looked up as he felt the man’s hand on his shoulder. “What happened isn’t your fault, and nothing you did means that you deserved it.”

Ezra flinched again, and he didn’t even know why. Kanan’s voice was gentle, his hand on Ezra’s shoulder a soft, comforting anchor. Ezra knew he didn’t have any reason to be afraid right now, but the thought of acknowledging Kanan’s words as true filled him with sheer terror.

“I—it wasn’t your fault, either,” Ezra said, desperate to turn the conversation away from himself. Away from Kanan trying to comfort him.

Kanan’s arm slid around Ezra’s back, gently pulling him into a hug. Ezra’s shoulders went stiff with surprise. This was the last thing he’d been expecting. After a moment, he leaned into it, resting his head against Kanan’s shoulder. He shut his eyes, feeling Kanan’s heartbeat reverberating through his chest. For just those few seconds, he almost, _almost_ felt safe.

“I can help you build your shields back up,” Kanan said, his voice soft as he held Ezra tightly.

Ezra wanted to tell him they should start now, that he couldn’t go another minute with his shields so badly torn apart. But the mere thought of sitting in a room with Kanan, meditating and trying to reconstruct even the flimsiest of barriers around his mind, made him nearly start trembling with exhaustion. He didn’t even know when the last time he’d slept was.

“I’m so tired,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I can't sleep.”

Ezra felt something brush up against his mind and flinched, thinking at first that it was just another surge of emotion from Kanan, or even someone else on the ship, that he couldn’t block out. He quickly realized that it was something else; something warm and soft wrapping around his mind like a blanket around his shoulders. Within moments, the painful waves of emotions he could sense from the others were muted, like sounds blocked out by hands over his ears. The only one he could fully sense now was Kanan.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Kanan said. “I’ll stay with you, and I’ll keep you shielded. Alright?”

Ezra nodded, not moving his head from where it rested on his master’s shoulder until Kanan broke away. Sliding an arm around Ezra’s shoulders, Kanan led him out of the galley. Before they even reached Kanan’s cabin, Ezra’s eyelids were already beginning to feel heavy.

As Ezra lay down, Kanan placed a blanket over him, carefully tucking it around him. Ezra’s eyes began to close as he felt Kanan’s shields extending to protect him, keeping the constant pulse of the entire crew’s emotions at bay.

“We’ll fix this,” Kanan said, his hand resting on Ezra’s forehead, the soft touch dredging up Ezra’s half-buried memories of the last time he’d been sick before his parents had been taken. “Just get some rest first.”

Ezra was just barely able to summon the strength to nod slowly. As he drifted off, the last thing he was aware of was that gentle hand on his forehead.


End file.
